Chapter 124: Chapter 124: Unexpected
The grand hall was silent as the King of the Undead stepped forward, his dark figure casting unsettling shadows across the palace walls. His eyes glowed with an unnatural light as he spoke words that made everyone present tremble.
"The god of corruption, Ner’Zhaal, has sent me a message... and given me a clear mandate: at all costs, the hero’s head must fall."
A murmur of alarm ran through the hall. No one dared to interrupt, but the tension was palpable. The King of the Undead continued, his voice seeming to rise from the tombs themselves:
"He has cursed the hero... every step he takes, every breath, is marked so that we can find him."
From his cloak, an ancient pendant emerged, covered in symbols that seemed to twist under the dim light of the hall. Carefully, he held it between his fingers and, murmuring a spell, activated it.
Suddenly, a burst of light ran through the pendant... and it shattered into a thousand pieces.
The King of the Undead stepped back, surprised and alarmed. He hadn’t expected such a reaction. His claws tensed as he tried to understand what had happened.
Everyone present froze, not daring to speak, watching as the mysterious pendant turned to dust before their eyes. No one knew what had happened, or what the consequences of that unexpected event might be.
A murmur of disbelief ran through the room.
"No... it can’t be!" exclaimed one of the present, voice broken by shock and fear.
"Someone has interfered with the curse... but I don’t believe the hero has the power to lift a god’s curse," murmured the King of the Undead, frowning. His eyes glowed with restrained anger. "Has someone intervened... maybe the system?"
All eyes turned to him, and a heavy silence turned into an air of mockery. Their faces showed contempt; they all hated him, and now he seemed vulnerable, exposed by the failure.
Then, with slow, weary steps, the Pope of the Church of the Goddess of Divination stood up. His figure was weak, emaciated, as if each breath cost him life itself. Yet his voice, though faint, resonated with unexpected strength:
"I... have tried to locate the hero... at the cost of my own lifespan. I am certain he is not where he should be... He must be on the islands surrounding the continent."
A chill ran through everyone present. The Pope’s words were a dark omen: even with his sacrifice, finding the hero’s location could only be done with superhuman effort.
Before the silence could settle, the Beast King and several other rulers spoke one after another:
"This is a serious problem," said the Beast King, in a grave tone. "Right now, we are being attacked by all the kings of the ocean. Incidents have been reported along every coast."
"We are being annihilated," another king continued, his face tense. "All our men are falling, and we have neither the strength nor the manpower to contain all the sea kings."
The council fell into a tense, heavy silence. No one knew how to respond. The Sea Kings’ demands were extreme: retreat 10,000 kilometers from the coasts, never approach them again, and sign a blood contract binding them to their word.
The hall filled with outrage and confusion. It was too much to concede, but if they wanted to avoid immediate conflict, they had no choice but to comply. Careful plans began to form, whispers about how to negotiate without showing weakness.
The Titan King slammed his enormous fist onto the stone table, making the hall shake.
"Those fish-brain kings," he growled, "will never negotiate with anyone. They’d rather die than give up an inch."
Other rulers murmured in agreement. Strategy was now their only option. They discussed contingencies, how to track Jax, possible traps, and the places he might flee. Every idea was debated, every move weighed carefully.
Meanwhile, the King of the Undead, Lord Veythar, observed the room with a cold, calculating gaze. His green flames flickered as he evaluated the plans.
"Calm yourselves," he finally said, his voice echoing like bones creaking in a tomb. "Before rushing into madness, remember this: we are dealing with something... far bigger than a mere human."
The Beast King growled lowly, frustration evident in his voice.
"We have to act! If we give him time, he’ll slip through our hands again."
Veythar raised his skeletal hand, silencing the room instantly.
"Patience," he hissed. "We hunt the hero, but not recklessly—purposefully. We locate him, understand his power, and then... we decide what to do. Acting hastily is what allowed the Sea Kings to advance this far."
The hall fell silent again. Every king, beast, titan, and elf understood the truth: their plans could not be impulsive. Jax was not just another target; he had changed the rules of the game, and underestimating him would be fatal.
Finally, after hours of heated discussion, the council reached a temporary conclusion. Retreat from the coasts, prepare defenses for when the Sea Kings pressed their advantage, and develop a strategy to locate and control the hero.
When the meeting concluded, Veythar’s hollow eyes swept over the gathered rulers.
"This is only the beginning," he said, his voice chilling and authoritative. "The hero has shifted the balance. Every step we take from now on must be calculated, or we will all pay the price."
Charles III sat alone on his throne, the red velvet of his cape pooling around him. His eyes burned with controlled fury as they fixed on Valerius, who stood uneasily before him.
"This is your last chance," Charles said, his voice low and deadly. "Find Jax... or die trying."
Valerius swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the king’s gaze like a physical blow. He knew failure was no longer an option.
Charles leaned back slightly, the shadows of the throne room flickering across his face. "No more excuses, no more delays. I won’t tolerate incompetence again. One more slip, and it will be the end for you."
The general nodded, his knees nearly buckling under the intensity of the words. The threat was absolute, and the king’s wrath left no room for doubt.
The kings left the hall in silence, each lost in thought. The pressure of the hunt to come weighed on their shoulders. And somewhere out there, Jax moved, unaware of the storm forming against him.